Fifth Grave Past the Light Page 32

She smiled. “Your sister has filled me in. I know all your little tricks.”

“Really? Did she tell you the one about the one where I say, ‘Pick a card. Any card.’ And then I say, ‘Now put it anywhere in the deck. Don’t show me!’ And then —”

“This is called deflecting.”

“That’s weird. I was just told yesterday that I reflect. Like the sun off a chrome bumper.” When a sly smile spread across her face, I knew I would not win this round. “So, she told you about all of my little tricks, huh?”

“Yes, she did.”

“Did she mention the big ones? Because I have some doozies.”

“Why don’t you tell me about them,” she said, her expression one of absolute understanding and infinite patience.

I leaned forward, regarded her from underneath my lashes, and added an evil tilt to my smirk. “I can make the earth quake beneath your feet.”

“Really?” she asked, as though fascinated.

What was I doing? Begging for a bed in a psych ward? She was just so smug, I felt I needed to put her in her place. But she was also Gemma’s friend. If I screwed her up, I’d never hear the end of it.

She leaned onto her elbows as well. “Why don’t you show me.”

It wasn’t so much a question as a challenge. That did it. I let the power inside me gather near my heart, let it swirl and coil together until it collided in my center. I let it slide out of me, let it grab hold of the earth beneath us and the air around us. I let it take charge and build energy, and then I nudged it.

The world quaked beneath our feet. The objects on her desk shook and a lamp fell over before I reined in the energy I’d let out.

She paled, but fought her fear. “Like I said, your sister told me about you.”

Well, crap. I reached for my phone. “Can you excuse me for just a minute?”

She sat back and waited as I rang Gemma.

“Hel —”

“Gemma, what the hell?”

“What? What’d I do now?” She seemed winded.

“What were you doing?” I asked suspiciously. She’d been very secretive the last few days. She was totally doing someone.

“Nothing. Why are you cursing at me?”

“Who’s there?”

“No one. Did you miss your appointment?”

“Oh, you mean the one where you told a complete stranger all about me? That one?”

“Yes.”

“Gemma! What the hell?”

“Couldn’t scare her off, could you?” she asked, satisfaction sparkling in her voice.

“No. What did you say?”

“Ask her. I’m busy.”

“Who’s there?”

“No one. Stop asking me that. And it’s none of your business.”

“Fine.” I hung up and went back into Dr. Romero’s office, preparing myself for an hour of hell on Earth.

While Dr. Romero wasn’t as bad as I’d originally suspected – she had courage, stepping up to the plate after the curve ball I’d thrown her – I really didn’t see our relationship going anywhere. After my session, I headed straight toward Presbyterian Hospital to see if I could get any information on a missing woman named Nic-something-or-other. I walked into the hospital and went straight to the information desk. Since it was information I needed.

“Hi,” I said to the lady sitting behind it. “I was just wondering if you could help me. I had an amazing nurse named Nicole the other day, and I hoped you could tell me what ward she worked in.”

The woman stared at me, then asked, “Well, what ward were you admitted into?”

She had a good point. “Oh, well, that’s the thing. I don’t remember, exactly. I was, um, inebriated.”

“What’s your name, and I’ll look it up.”

“Well, I didn’t check in under my real name.”

After a long sigh, she said, “I can’t just give out information on a whim.” Her mouth did that schoolmarm grim line thing. I was being chastised and chastised good.

“Look, all I need to know is if you have a nurse or anyone else who would wear scrubs named Nicole. Or possibly Nicki. Or, well, anything that starts with an N-i-c.” I flashed my PI card. It made me look official. “I’m working on a case for APD. We would really appreciate your help.”

“And what case would that be?”

I jumped at the sound of a male voice behind me and turned to see the captain there. Was he following me? “Captain Eckert, what are you doing here?”

“Wondering the same thing about you. I just checked your status this morning and I don’t recall you being on a case for us presently.”

“Oh, well, I’m working with my uncle on something.”

“And what would that be?”

Holy cow, this man was going to get annoying. Why was he so determined to figure any of this out? “It’s a missing persons case.”

“I don’t recall Bob being on any missing persons case at the moment.”

“It’s more like a potential missing persons.”

“Fine, I’ll do anything I can to help.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t bother you.”

He ignored me, flashed his badge to the receptionist, and said, “Employees named Nicole, if you don’t mind.”

“All right.” She clicked a few keys and gave me the names of two Nicoles. One worked in diagnostics and one was a charge nurse in the neonatal unit.

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